


Better To Light A Candle Than Curse The Darkness

by mandatorily



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, Heartbreaking, M/M, POV First Person, Suicide, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandatorily/pseuds/mandatorily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When someone dies, it's customary to hold a candlelight vigil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better To Light A Candle Than Curse The Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to, and including, 203, The Reichenbach Fall. The title is a slight alteration of a Chinese proverb, "Don't curse the darkness - light a candle," and this version was used in Adlai Stevenson's speech about Eleanor Roosevelt.
> 
> This fic has been [Remixed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/398222) by the lovely and talented [Arianne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/luminare_ardua/pseuds/luminare_ardua).

I kneel beside the altar, touching match to wick, sparking light in the darkness of our flat. It’s not a proper altar, of course, and this is no holy sanctuary. To an observer it would appear more an invocation with the skull and the violin and a teacup full of nicotine patches resting on a worn dressing gown.

The floor before his chair is hard on my knees, but the pain keeps me focused. Grounded. Without it I’m afraid the grief might swallow me whole.

I’ve never been a religious person, but I’ve seen relatives light candles to remember the dead and I could hardly think of a better way to say goodbye. We’d started with a candle, that night at Angelo’s; fitting we should end with one, here.

I stare at the flame, losing track of time, unable to cry. I know the tears will come, they must, but here with his things, the smell of him sharp and intoxicating, it’s hard to believe he’s gone.

Any moment he’ll come through the door, eyes flashing with intelligence and the joy of discovery. He’ll sweep me into a frenzy, drag me through the streets of London, adrenaline coursing through my veins as much from the chase as from being with him.

But, no, that won’t happen. All those things ended this morning in the pale gray dawn, rain falling on a face gone slack and cold. I could almost forgive him leaving, if he hadn’t insisted on making me watch.

It’s long past midnight, I’ve gone through three candles by the time I can no longer stay awake and still I don’t want to move from this place. Getting up and going about a normal routine can wait for the morning. Tonight is for letting go.

I settle myself on the floor, clutch his dressing gown, lean against the seat of his chair and finally the tears come. I’d expected great, gasping sobs, but these are silent, each one pulled from a place in my heart I hadn’t even understood was there. It’s much too late to do anything about it now, but, oh if only I had another chance.

The air stirs in the flat through the open living room door. I raise my head from my arms, but before I can turn to look the candle flickers once, twice and goes out, leaving me in complete darkness, alone.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Three Candles Until Morning (The London Night Watch Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/398222) by [luminare_ardua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminare_ardua/pseuds/luminare_ardua)




End file.
